‘Spider-Man: Far From Home’ is a Whirlwind Tour of Web-Slinging Fun

Summer might be a traditional time for ambitious teens to learn responsibility with a part-time job, but Spider-Man entered the workforce a little earlier than most; it’s time to cash in on that vacation time with a nice trip overseas before those galactic threats ramp up again. Any satisfying European adventure usually involves plenty of sightseeing, some obligatory landmarks, a few amusingly awkward travel moments, and the possibility of a little romance; but how to fit it all in? Boundless enthusiasm, of course. Where Homecoming seemed too impatient for its protege to grow up and enter the toil of the superhero rat race that is the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Far From Home is almost frothing at the mouth to get some much-deserved play time. It doesn’t completely leave work back at the office (should’ve turned that phone off), but the resulting whirlwind tour is still mostly refreshing fun.

The film wastes no time in getting where it wants to go; as Peter Parker prepares for a class trip across the pond in the aftermath of the world-changing events of Avengers: Endgame, his superhero duties start to take a back seat to youthful aspirations. After all, what better place to woo his secret crush than than afloat on Venetian canals or atop the Eiffel Tower? His intentions are so pure that he tunes out reminders to pack the Spidey suit (though not without guilty reservations) in an effort to forget, at least for a little while, the emotional and physical toll that wearing it brings.

That can’t last long, obviously, or Spider-Man: Far From Home would be a completely different movie, but the effort to establish a Peter Parker who is increasingly feeling the burden of his responsibilities works well, and helps keep later decisions much more within the realm of possibility. Even though he’s “been to space,” this is a naive, unworldly kid looking to finally be such again; it’s understandable that at times his spider senses might not see trouble coming. This is especially true when distracted by gorgeous city architecture, picturesque mountainsides, and the fleeting glances from a girl named MJ. Ah, to be young and in love; old Nick Fury couldn’t possibly understand.

Though it’s often in a rush to zip from one sensational attraction to the next, like a low-attention-span student tourist group rarely interested in soaking up culture or the magnitude of history surrounding them, the first half of Spider-Man: Far From Home nevertheless makes enough stops off the action-movie beaten path in order to wallow in the lighter side of life. Hardly any importance is given to the locations, but awkward flirting, teenage jealousies, and Aunt May’s dating prospects provide plenty of breezy comedic fodder, giving Marvel fans something to consistently laugh about again, and even the changes brought upon the world after you-know-what elicit some clever gags. The aw-shucks relationship stuff is bolstered by a long string of gentle pokes at out-of-touch-teachers, YouTube streamers, selfies, and ghosting a guy who hasn’t quite adjusted to the lack of reverence in this new generation.

Due to the nature of the on-the-move premise, the breezy atmosphere and brisk pacing work far better this time than it did when focusing on routine in New York, and it’s easy to get whisked away right along with the characters. There’s a schedule to keep, people! Sure, there are moments of exposition sprinkled into the itinerary where the presence of gargantuan elemental monsters that destroy much of that aforementioned gorgeous architecture are kind of ‘explained,’ as well as brief action set pieces involving a fishbowl-headed, caped wonder dubbed ‘Mysterio’ who flies around while casting magic and leaving a trail of green smoke, but it’s the little moments that end up the most memorable during Spider-Man: Far From Home. The clumsy interactions on the plane, the embarrassing misunderstandings at the hotel, and freedom to shift from and adapt to whatever situation presents itself.

Much of that is due to Tom Holland’s exuberant performance. He once again plays Peter as a young man brimming with energy, practically bursting at the seams to take control of his own destiny, yet bridled by guilt and loyalty. What good is being a superhero if you never get what you want? This version of the character has yet to achieve as much pathos or relatability as Tobey Maguire’s sadder sack, but his likability is off the charts, and the sincere, whiz-bang nature with which he tries to tackle every situation is never less than endearing. That wholesomeness lends much-needed weight to scenes of frustration, and moments that offer a glimpse into the youth who could almost give up being a superhero in favor of a normal life hit harder than the jocular scripts often deserves.

The flip side of this is that Far From Home suffers when there’s less for Holland to do outside of swinging around and slinging web. Though the supporting cast are made up of pros who know how to crack wise or deliver a longing look, their contributions are negligible in the humanity department. Only Jake Gyllenhaal is able to cut loose a bit, allowed to deviate ever so slightly from factory line readings and inject an intriguing undercurrent into his mystery man. Despite the absurd outfit, Mysterio ends up as the only other truly interesting person in this entire affair. It’s not enough to bolster a standard third act that sags under the weight of falling buildings and swarms of CGI, but any little bit certainly helps.

Yes, Spider-Man: Far From Home starts fast and finishes a tad sloppy, but youth has always been wasted on the young. Regardless, the trip overseas has resulted in this sub-series of the MCU finding itself, perhaps discovering what it’s meant to be, where it’s place in the world is. No doubt it will soon be back to the daily grind of the Marvel mill, but there’s always time to make money; this is the time to make memories.

Patrick Murphy grew up in the hearty Midwest, where he spent many winter hours watching movies and playing video games while waiting for baseball season to start again. When not thinking of his next Nintendo post or writing screenplays to satisfy his film school training, he’s getting his cinema fix as the Editor of Sordid Cinema, Goomba Stomp's Film and TV section.

4 Comments

Ricky Fernandes da Conceição

July 4, 2019 at 1:35 am

I strongly prefer Homecoming over Far From Home, mostly because of Michael Keaton but also because … you know … it is a far superior film. Far From Home did not have one memorable scene. It was just alright.

I am ready for a Spiderman movie where it is all his own. Whether it is Iron man’s tech, hi disgruntled employees, or hi competition, I am ready for Spiderman to move away from the rest of the MCU. Homecoming was better though because…. you know… Batman was in it. Although I really enjoyed the scene from Far From Home where Mysterio kicked Spidey’s trash.

I’m with you on the need for a standalone; let this character breathe for a second! As for which movie is better, well, both are entertaining in their own ways, but I just thought Far From Home was a little spiffier. And I’ll take Jake Gyllenhaal”s bar scene here over anything Michael Keaton did in Homecoming.

TIFF 2019: Benson and Moorhead Bend Time in the Psychedelic ‘Synchronic’

Bringing together trippy science fiction and the grit of New Orleans, Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead continue their streak of grounded genre-fare with Synchronic. With another exploration into concepts of time and reality, Synchronic plays out like a cross between Martin Scorsese’s Bringing out the Dead and Shane Carruth’s Primer. Though not as nuanced in its characters as previous entires in their filmography, Benson and Moorhead provide another delight for genre fans, and a compelling idea that never gets too far out of their grasp, despite its ambitiousness.

Focused on two paramedics, Synchronic finds Steve (Anthony Mackie) and Dennis (Jamie Dornan) driving through New Orleans and stumbling upon several drug overdoses in the city. The only connection between the overdoses is that all of the victims took a new designer drug called Synchronic. As the incidents start piling up, the two become entangled in the mystery of the drug’s effects after Dennis’ teenage daughter (Ally Ioannides) takes it and goes missing. While Dennis tries to find his daughter, Steve takes it upon himself to learn what exactly Synchronic does to the user, which ultimately leads to the film’s surreal and genre-bending narrative.

Tensions between the two escalate as Dennis contends with his failing marriage, which is only made worse when their daughter disappears, while Steve hides a terminal illness that leads him to experiment with Synchronic. As an isolated alcoholic who is dying, Mackie is probably the best he’s ever been in a role that doesn’t really offer him much in terms of character development but still puts him in situations where his charisma brings magnitudes. Hefty amounts of emotional baggage are dropped on him, and he does a significant job elevating the material. Meanwhile, Dornan continues to be bland, and his chemistry with Mackie feels forced every time they banter. In fact, almost all of the emotion in Synchronic comes up short because of this lack of chemistry and Dornan’s poor acting.

Despite that, Synchronic is enjoyable because of where its science fiction concept is willing to reach. The visuals are otherworldly as different time periods blend into each other, and Benson and Moorhead continue to show what can be done on a modest budget. While the film’s trippy concept is explored thoroughly enough, there are facets that desire extrapolation, such as the personal ramifications of taking the drug — which isn’t explored, despite drugs with hallucinatory and psychedelic effects tending to take the user into account. Instead the drug here has the same effect on everyone, with any deviations dictated by external factors. However, the film casually explores Steve’s character within the guise of this, making for a riveting — but not all that deep — look at the past to see how much better things are now.

Synchronic doesn’t quite live up to the neat package that The Endless was, but Benson and Moorhead pare down the scope of the film in order to keep it neater and more controllable. Otherwise, not only would it have been a messy venture, but the dull characters would deny any thrills. Thankfully, Mackie does wonders in a very subdued emotional performance that complements the visually arresting imagery. Synchronic is a solid genre flick that will keep Benson and Moorhead on the rise in the genre community, and will satisfy fans of a psychedelic premise rooted in the real world.

TIFF 2019: ‘Uncut Gems’ Sends Adam Sandler Through the Ringer

The Safdie Brothers have followed up their grimy, abrasive Good Time with a film that never quite reaches those levels of tension, but is nevertheless cut from the same cloth. With Uncut Gems, the directing duo have crafted something so loud and chaotic — led by an perfectly-cast Adam Sandler — that there is no denying it’s a fun ride, even when it is not so fun to watch. Digging through the grit of loan sharks and a dog-eat-dog world, Uncut Gems is another bonafide hit by the Safdie brothers, but one that works when it piles on the misery — which it often does, rather than find a shred of happiness.

Evading debt collectors throughout New York City, Howard (Sandler) runs a jewelry shop in the Diamond District where he sells to many high-profile celebrities. When a new opal arrives at his shop from Ethiopia, he can’t help but show it off to Boston Celtics player Kevin Garnett (who stars as himself in a fun role that never feels out-of-place), who becomes obsessed with the rock and borrows it with the hope of eventually convincing Howard to let him buy it. Of course, Howard has other plans, as the rock is allegedly worth a million dollars if sold at an auction in which he has already purchased a spot. When Garnett doesn’t return the stone, everything starts going horribly awry in Howard’s life as he juggles a failing marriage, his Jewish family ties, and keeping the loan sharks at bay.

Right out of the gate, Daniel Lopatin (Oneohtrix Point Never) hits the ground hard with a score that carries the cosmic and reverberating effects of the titular uncut gems. When Garnett stares into the opal, he sees exactly what Howard tells him he’s supposed to see: the universe. In that, Lopatin provides a sonicscape so expansive and yet violently singular in its aesthetic that it provides much of Uncut Gems with a mystical aura. Drenched in gritty camerawork that gets up close to show the blemishes of everyone, there’s no denying the film’s mean and potent intensity.

Where Uncut Gems often stumbles is in its narrative threads. While the Garnett storyline weaves in and out, providing a lot of fun as well as hectic tension, it’s a piece of stunt casting that works, while also highlighting one that very clearly doesn’t involving R&B singer The Weekend. Why he is in the movie is baffling, other than perhaps because he evokes a further sense that Howard is in a very upscale world — something we already know by his clientele, multiple properties, and the wealth he actually wears. The Weekend ends up as a weird diversion that can take viewers out of the experience, even if his presence does lead to a further escalation in problems for Howard.

That all being said, Uncut Gems also brings Adam Sandler back into the fold as an actor who can do more than the drivel he has churned out over the decades. More evocative of his performance in Punch-Drunk Love than The Meyerowitz Stories, Sandler gives a comedic and sympathetic performance to a character for whom everything suddenly goes wrong. Living a manic, fast-paced lifestyle, Howard is impatient, aggressive, and greedy, but Sandler makes it possible to get on board with his plight at least partially (there is no way to be on his side completely). His vices are many, but the performance keeps him down to Earth even when it feels like everything is flying off the hinges.

There will likely be many that can’t get past how dirty this movie feels, as it treats many criminal activities as both simply the way things are and they way they always will be. Beyond that, however, the Safdie Brothers provide a nuanced look at Jewish culture, utilizing one of Hollywood’s most prolific Jewish actors, and treat it is as matter-of-fact. Uncut Gems is a frenetic crime film from a Jewish perspective, and delivers on its promise of being a wild ride with a phenomenal Sandler performance. Just don’t expect there to be much hope present, as the Safdies revel in the misery as much as humanly possible, only using hope as a torture device to make the anguish all the more painful.

TIFF 2019: ‘To the Ends of the Earth’ Is a Compelling Study on Loneliness

It’s de rigeur at this point to mention in a review whenever the Japanese filmmaker Kiyoshi Kurosawa is working in a genre other than horror, but it’s a strange trend. Kurosawa certainly made a name for himself with his chilling and elegant horror films, most famously Cure (1997) and Pulse (2001), but he didn’t make any horror films between 2006’s Retribution and 2016’s Creepy, and he hasn’t made any since then. Perhaps hardcore horror fans are fickle enough to simply pass over the half of his output that isn’t explicitly scary, but it would be an utter shame to do so, especially when he’s still working at the top of his game. His newest, To the Ends of the Earth, finds him working in a quieter mode than usual, but it’s one of his most heartfelt and engaging movies.

The Japanese pop singer Atsuko Maeda stars in To the Ends of the Earth as Yoko, a news-magazine reporter who is visiting Uzbekistan to film an episode for a travel series. (Kurosawa was approached in 2016 about making a film to commemorate the 25th anniversary of diplomatic relations between Japan and Uzbekistan, though there’s nothing celebratory about this film.) She’s joined by a small camera crew, as well as their invaluable translator, Temur (Adiz Rajabov). Most of the things she has to film would only appeal to your grandparents, like when she visits a large, man-made lake in search of a mythical fish that almost certainly doesn’t exist. Other trips take her to a bustling bazaar and an amusement park where she has to ride a nausea-inducing attraction multiple times in order to get enough usable footage.

Yoko displays a bubbly personality when on camera, but as soon as the light goes off, her face begins to droop. The beaming smile collapses and dips at the corners, and her eyes become dark and stormy. Though she’s an integral part of the production, the camera crew — especially the chilly director, Yoshioka (Shôta Sometani) — often dismiss her opinions or don’t even ask in the first place. They send her into the lake in waders, even though there’s a hole in them that renders the pants useless at keeping out water. They send her up again and again on the amusement ride, even though a single ride is all the cameraman is willing to take. The culturally conservative men in Uzbekistan don’t help either. Their guide in search of the mythical fish tells the men that they’re having no luck because the fish can smell women. Whether she’s surrounded by foreigners or even by men she knows well, Yoko is always alone on her trip, and the loneliness starts to eat away at her.

To the Ends of the Earth lives and dies by Maeda’s performance, and luckily it’s a mesmerizing one. There’s a simplicity to her acting that avoids many of the traditional signifiers of ‘quality’ acting — a short-hand of unrealistic tropes that even the best actors regularly use. I wouldn’t have known that she wasn’t really a reporter until the movie briefly turns into a musical toward the end, in a welcome break from reality. Maeda movingly conveys the disappointment of being undervalued by all the men around her, but she also shows off her ability to display overwhelming dread when she fears something terrible may have happened to a loved one back in Tokyo. Kurosawa uses a more static camera here than usual, but it helps to not distract from Maeda’s performance. Those looking for more plot and drama like some of Kurosawa’s older thrillers may be disappointed by To the Ends of the Earth, but it stands among his best and most moving works.

TIFF 2019: ‘Ford v Ferrari’ Drives Fast with Little Under the Hood

Many directors always struggle with producers and other businessmen to retain their vision. What might work most for that vision may not be what focus tests and audiences have proven to enjoy, so the film gets reworked and reworked until it becomes a box office hit, and potentially retains a director’s intent. Ford v Ferrari doesn’t necessarily feel like that — this is a James Mangold film in many regards — but by the end of its story of vision and skill versus marketing and business agendas, Mangold’s latest wrestles with placing trust in an individual against an entire body of suits.

When Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) is approached by Ford Motors to create a car fast enough to beat Ferrari at the 24 Hours of Le Mans (an annual racing event where drivers go all day and night around the same track), he is forced to fight tooth-and-nail to get the best driver for the job: Ken Miles (Christian Bale). Shelby’s fight is singular; he wants to win the Le Mans, and knows that Miles is the only one who can do it. Yet, Ford Motors is still a company with many eyes on them, and employing the hot-headed Miles as a driver could be disastrous. So begins a struggle for Shelby and Miles to have their desires met by a company looking at the bottom line. That struggle — one that underscores every decision made by the characters in the film — is what sits at the core of Ford vFerrari, and keeps things interesting. Set that aside, however, and the film loses a lot of momentum.

Still, the racing will grip audiences throughout. The final Le Mans challenge runs for a decent portion of Ford v Ferrari and is engaging throughout, but there are several other races and practices where Mangold’s craftsmanship as a filmmaker shines bright. Miles sits in the driver’s seat of all of these moments, and Bale’s performance is never stronger than when his character has that need for speed. Miles is a passionate driver with pure intentions, and Bale gives him a lot of wit and heart in between huge swings of emotion. It’s a performance that stands tall but doesn’t distract, instead meshing extremely well with the action.

Meanwhile, the other performances are also solid. Matt Damon is very good in the role of Shelby, though his character is quite often reserved because he has to be. When you put him against Bale, however, it’s clear that Shelby pales to the race car driver’s fleshed-out character, as we follow the latter’s family, his rejections and successes, and his pure heart. In the backdrop is a wide array of supporting actors, including Caitriona Balfe as Mollie Miles, Josh Lucas as the thorn in Shelby’s side, Jon Bernthal playing a standard Jon Bernthal role, and Tracy Letts chewing up scenery whenever he can as Henry Ford II. Letts and Lucas in particular give great caricatured performances, planting Ford v Ferrari into a more standard Hollywood drama.

Largely that’s the problem: Ford v Ferrari is a technical achievement with some incredible craftsmanship and performances that just never feels as great at slow times as it does when it’s moving past 7000 RPMs. It has a need for speed, and the pacing shows that, but it also doesn’t really rise very high above what’s needed to please an audience. Mangold is great at deriving emotional substance out of a subject, but a lot of that in Ford v Ferrari is left on the shoulders of Bale’s performance. Instead, the film focuses heavily on the bureaucratic side of things, and how that hinders talented people from being who they are destined to be. While fun to watch, there isn’t much more that will have Ford v Ferrari lingering with audiences. Instead, this will be a movie that resonates with racing fans and those that struggle against restrictions, keeping general audience satisfied in their big Hollywood dramas for the time being.

It seems like it was only yesterday that Steven Soderbergh announced he be taking a directing sabbatical to focus on painting. Since then, he’s directed three full seasons of television and three feature-length films, in addition to dalliances with the theatre. But his break from film seems to have done the famously restless filmmaker a world of good, even if it didn’t last long. His last batch of films have seen him return to also serving in the cinematographer and editor positions, and his experiments shooting with an iPhone have proven that he’s still light on his feet. Soderbergh’s newest feature, The Laundromat, doesn’t feature any iPhone acrobatics, but it is one of his most playful films ever.

Written by Soderbergh’s longtime collaborator, Scott Z. Burns, The Laundromat attempts to both explain the complicated workings of the 2015 Panama Papers leak as well as put a human face to the unethical behavior described within. The story opens with its two devilish narrators, Jürgen Mossack (Gary Oldman) and Ramón Fonseca (Antonio Banderas), as they break the fourth wall and go all the way back to the invention of money to explain exactly how oligarchs around the world can make, hide, and steal money across the globe. These scenes are relatively funny, though they tip-toe dangerously close to the kind of simplistic explanation that pollutes recent Adam McKay films. Oldman and Banderas are also part of the film proper as the wealthy owners of the Panamanian law firm Mossack Fonseca, from which the massive leak came. The firm was primarily used by clients to set up shell companies in island nations with favorable tax policies, sometimes for totally legal tax avoidance, but often for illegal tax evasion and fraudulent activities.

The human face of this greed comes from Meryl Streep, playing Ellen Martin, a retiree whose husband is killed in an accident while on vacation. He has a life insurance policy, but she’s expecting a seven-figure settlement from the tour company. However, the company’s insurance was sold to them by a fraudster operating shell companies, which sends Ellen on a quest to find exactly who is responsible for paying for her husband’s death. Along the way there are heartbreaking failures, like when she flies to the Caribbean Island of Nevis only to find out that the company’s address is actually just a post office box. And mixed in with her quest for the truth are vignettes describing some of the corruption mentioned in the papers.

Aside from a murder subplot, Soderbergh and Burns keep the film light and comic, as if the only response to corruption on such a massive scale is to laugh. The director keeps his camera on the move, and he lights many of the scenes to either have the cool glow of office fluorescent lighting or the washed-out glare of tropical settings. It’s not the most soothing or attractive look, but Soderbergh has often favored lighting that suits the film’s mood and setting, even if he occasionally turns on the glitz and glamour for something like his Ocean’s films.

It’s clear that Streep had a great time working with Soderbergh on The Laundromat, their first collaboration. In addition to playing Ellen, she has a second role that eagle-eyed viewers will spot underneath pounds of makeup and padding, but she also strips down all the makeup to reveal what looks like her true self — Meryl, not Ellen. It’s for a surprisingly passionate speech in an otherwise cynical film that will briefly make audiences think that something can be done to stop all this corruption. Whether that’s true or not is another issue.

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